Work. Work. Work. And more work. Since the reunion night, that was all Jason had done: work, drink whiskey, smoke cigarettes, and swallow pills just to sleep. His insomnia hadn't started now; it had always been there, lurking in the shadows of his mind. He'd toss and turn far into the night, but eventually, exhaustion would win. Some days, he'd pop a pill or two. Maybe that was why that day at her apartment had thrown him off. He’d fallen asleep easily in her bed. He hadn't realized it until he was in his car, driving away. The past few days, he'd increased the dosage. But last night, despite swallowing more than usual, he'd tossed until the first light of dawn, unable to erase the moment in his office. Nor the woman. Fighting the urge to grab his phone and check the clips posted online, he threw the duvet off, got dressed for work and told himself his body must have grown immune to the medication. So he scheduled an appointment with his doctor, intending to ask for a stronger p
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